I had never heard anyone ever raise their voice before. I had never really gotten the stern talking-to by Helen and Michael. The feelings I was processing inside me were so jumbled, I couldn’t tell if they were his emotions of anger, or mine…pure terror.
“Yes, sir.” I looked down at my feet again and kept my stance until Alistair moved back to his seat.
The ride home was quiet, but I had thanked Chad for bringing me to see Alistair, even if it did turn into a scolding. A few good things came from it. I got to see that he was much better than he’d been before the holidays. I was given a family heirloom. I also found out that, although it may be harder to accomplish than having powers from only one parent, I would be able to control my powers at some point.
About halfway home, I looked down into my hand. I hadn’t actually put the ring on yet, so I slid it over the middle finger of my right hand. It was a bit too big, but then it shrunk down to fit snug against my skin. The metal was cool. As I looked into the stone, it appeared as though it was full of liquid, the contents moving and splashing up and around inside.
“Did you see his face…when he talked about Sabina? He looked shattered.” I scowled at the memory.
The words left me as I tried to soak in their meaning. I closed my eyes and could still see the way his eyes looked withdrawn and weathered. It wasn’t just sadness. There was despair. How would he be able to live with the knowledge that his own child took the life of his beloved Isabella, her own mother? Things like that were not supposed to happen.
“I did. I can’t imagine what he’s going through. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle something like that.” Chad rubbed his hand against my thigh to soothe me.
“Me either,” I said, and he placed his hand back on the wheel.
The sky turned quickly. Deep, dark clouds pushed in overhead and opened up to the world below, delivering large, heavy drops that thudded against the Cooper's exterior. The wind picked up, howling overhead, and sent old dying tree limbs flying across the highway.
“E?” Chad placed his hand back on my thigh for comfort, but it was no use. His power had no effect on me. I felt the squeeze of his hand around my knee but couldn’t shake what I was feeling.
I had the expression of my grandfather’s face in my mind. He had looked as though he’d aged a decade in mere minutes as he recounted what had happened all those years ago. The recollection of his anger choked me. My chest tightened and the muscles in my neck strained as he recalled the feeling of loss for so many years. The fact that he never got to say his farewell; never got to hold her as she passed. Aunt Sabina, in an attempt to anger my father and start a war between my parents and grandfather, had taken her own mother’s life and blamed it on Silas. My grandmother died alone in her room with nobody to comfort her, except her killer.
“Elyse!”
My eyes snapped open and I noticed, for the first time, that Chad had pulled the car over to the minimal shoulder space on the highway. The rain drops had hardened, and large bits of hail threatened to smash through the narrow windshield of the car. The gray of the sky and asphalt made the world outside my window seem like a pit of despair.
Panic struck as I looked at my hands, which thankfully hadn’t moved from my lap. The exception was the left hand, which Chad was holding in both of his. He was facing me. The car was in park, idling with the four-way flashers on. High beams showed through the dense gray all around us so other motorists, who continued on, could see us on the side of the highway. Chad spoke my name softly.
I jumped in my seat. “Is that me?” I flinched as the hail continued with its assault.
“Think of something else…and breathe deep.” The beating of the frozen spheres against metal subsided into loud thudding of larger than average rain drops.
“That’s it, E, nice and slow. Just think of all the fun we're gonna have covering Michelle’s new car with a shaving crème bow before your parents can give it to her.” He stifled a giggle and squeezed my hand in his.
First, the thought of my sister’s face flashed hot and angry in my mind, but I let loose an almost erratic laughter before making him promise not to mess with her birthday present from Helen and Michael.
As my mood lifted, so did the damaging winds, and the angry clouds dissipated into the afternoon sky, letting the sun once again claim it.
I took one more long, deep breath, making sure all would remain as it was, then screamed with controlled frustration. I beat my hands, closed in fists against the dark rubber-like dashboard, as my feet met the carpet with an assault, like a small toddler having a tantrum. Then another long deep breath.
“I can’t believe…” Before he could get another word out, I slowly lifted my hand at him without taking my eyes off the road ahead of us. My finger was properly pointed as if to say, ‘hold that thought.’
“No lecture. 'Cause that, really, was the first time that has ever happened. So, kinda had no clue…That. I. Could. Cause. An ice storm!” My voice rose with the last words I spoke, concluding my minor freak-out tantrum. With a final kick of my feet, I proceeded to close my eyes and take two more deep breaths in before lowering my hand, slowly, back to my lap.
“I wasn’t going to lecture, E. I was gonna say… that I can’t believe you get to change the weather to suit your moods, and all I get to do is become all fury.” The laughter bubbled up inside me and I let myself ride on the high tide of it until I had nothing left.
With the car pulled effortlessly back onto the highway, Chad still held my hand and continued on in silence.
I looked down at the ring from my grandfather. Liquid still splashed about on the inside of the stone. I found myself wondering if my grandmother had been wearing it when she died, but I let the thought drop away and concentrated instead on the rolling hills as we traveled south, towards home. The sun warmed the air around us. The rainwater still lingered on leaves of trees and the grass, regardless of the newfound heat, and made the world look like it was crying with me.
Home. That word had lost all meaning to me. I hadn't felt at home in the large expanse of the house I grew up in since learning of my parents' whereabouts. The idea that my aunt had been clever and strong enough to curse my parents to another plane was baffling.
"Do you think she did it alone?" I asked Chad and felt the immediate squeeze of his hand on mine.
“Are you sure you want to get into this in the car again?” The smile hooked the corner of his mouth. It was a look I'd seen more than a million times since we were five years old. His amber eyes flickered as he watched the road and then glanced at me with a sideways look.
"No, maybe you're right," I conceded.
"Now that's something I thought I'd have to wait years to hear."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I'm told once friends start officially dating, a guy never had a chance at hearing those words, until he was man enough to deserve them.” I could hear the sarcasm in his tone. “They said it could take up to fifty years ...or more."
"Is that so?" I gave him a playful grin.
"Yup, some men claim they've never heard it... ever." He chanced another look at me. That time, I could see the grin spread across his lips.
"Wow. Really? Never? I guess there aren’t that many manly men in the world.” I smiled at him. “Besides, I did say maybe.”
He let go of my hand, and while using both of his, he directed my navy blue Mini Cooper that I cleverly named Cooper, backwards down my driveway and into one of the empty spots in my parents' garage. When he finally cut the engine, he turned to me and took hold of my face. His thumb caressed the lines of my jaw. “I would've waited forever to hear those words.” Chad leaned into me and kissed me ever so softly on the cheek.
“Oh really? Why is that?” I prodded.
“Because, I was never right before we started dating, so it doesn't much matter. It was just a crazy story to sell magazines, I'd imagine.”
“So, that’s where you heard it…a magazine?” The laugh e
scaped my throat.
“Hey, I read.” He let go of my face and turned sideways in his seat. The center console between our two seats kept him from moving any closer.
I giggled and caught myself playing with a button on the bottom of his usual plaid shirt. He moved his hands to the back of my neck, his fingers weaving in and out of my hair. Then he pulled me to meet him over the middle compartment of the front seats, letting our lips touch.
The familiar taste of hazelnut danced on his lips. As they parted to rest on mine, I smelled the ever-noticeable spearmint on Chad's breath. I suddenly became very aware of the fact I had not remembered to brush my teeth that morning, but I didn't think he noticed, since he held the kiss a few beats longer than usual. Heat rushed to my cheeks and the tips of my ears.
When he broke the kiss, his eyes looked darker than usual and his face seemed heavy in thought, rather than one who had just made out with his girlfriend.
"Are you alright?" I asked him, but he didn't seem to have heard me. Another heartbeat and then he was back. "Sorry, I think I just had an epiphany." He reached for the door and tried to stand up from the car, but was yanked backwards into his seat, having forgotten to remove his seatbelt. He struggled, pulling the seatbelt from his neck, and slid his hand down to find the release button. He pushed once, then twice, as he tried to get up from the seat at the same time. Finally, on the third try, he managed to unlatch the buckle.
I was already laughing so hard, my side hurt by the time he managed to maneuver around the nose of the small car and open my door. “The epiphany?” I asked between gasps of breath.
He was rubbing the place on his shoulder where the seatbelt pulled at him, a sour look upon his face. “I think I lost it.”
I took pity on him. I snuggled into his body, wrapping my arms around him to feel the strength in his back. Nuzzling his shoulder, I then splayed tiny kisses where he rubbed. “All better?”
“Almost.” He dipped his head and our lips met once more.
Chapter Three
"Hey, where'd you guys go? Mom needed help decorating for the party," Michelle said. She walked out of the door, which led to the garage from the house.
"Then how come you're not helping?" I managed to catch myself and left the smile on my face. I moved from Chad and slid my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, preventing any knee-jerk magic from taking place in such a confined space.
"I did help her. She's in her room laying down. She said something about her head and then dropped the punch bowl." Michelle looked troubled. I don’t think I had ever seen my sister look worrisome over anything except a wardrobe malfunction.
"What? Is she okay?" I started for the door Michelle had come out of. She put up her hand, compelling me to stay where I was.
"Yeah, dad had her go lay down. He's in there picking up the glass off the floor."
Michelle was six months younger than me. By the time we figured out what it meant not to be blood related, it was about the time Michelle started telling me off. She insisted the only reason they had adopted me was because Helen didn't know she could have children. She’d say they didn’t know Helen was pregnant when they came to get me from the agency. When we turned thirteen and she was still saying it, I had enough. I grabbed Michelle by both of her arms and shook her hard to stop her from talking. Once I was sure she understood the truth, which was that she was already six months old when they had adopted me, I let her go. After that, I let her weave whatever tale she wanted.
Since that day, I was pretty sure she hated me and I thought the feeling might be mutual sometimes. Other times, she was my little sister. However, the majority of the time, I was just exhilarated to know her blonde tendencies would never be my specialty. Michelle lacked what I would call respect. Not for others, but in my opinion, for herself. She was always too obsessed over the next hot guy, what kind of jock he was, and how popular dating him could make her. I doubted very much that she would ever find what Chad and I had. For that alone, I felt bad for her.
"Where's Clara? Didn't she come to help out? She's been here to help with every birthday since your sixth." I looked around, as if the dark-haired girl would emerge with a bitter snap at me.
"No. I mean, I know, but I haven't seen her, and she hasn't answered my texts.” I watched as my sister sat down on the steps in front of the door, leading to the house. She rested her elbows on her knees and propped her chin up with her hands. Her eyes settled on the concrete floor of the garage.
Chad moved behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, as if he was protecting my sister from my flux of power too. Or maybe, he was protecting me from her? I couldn’t really tell.
"Do you still need a hand with something? Maybe I can help," Chad asked her, but his only answer was a cricket stranded in the garage, singing away. "Okay then, I guess I'm gonna go." He pressed his lips to the side of my head before letting me go. When his body was no longer next to mine, I could feel the emptiness again. I forgot how much his touch could affect me. His powers notwithstanding, I just liked when we were close.
"But what about..." I heard my words trail off before I felt the panic rise inside my voice.
"I’ll be back later, and we can do that then. Help your sister." He kissed me quickly again, that time on the lips, still twitchy about public displays of affection. Then he started out of the garage, moonwalking half the distance. “Do some writing, and I’ll be back for dinner.”
I lifted my hand carefully for a quick wave goodbye and stuffed it back into my jeans. Michelle said goodbye as well. Then she sat back, her shoulders leaned against the door just as it flung open. I could see my sister was about to hit her head on the threshold. Instinctively, my hands reached out towards her and I screamed. Michelle’s head stopped short, as if it were held by an invisible force. I could hear running footsteps on the other side, then Michael pulled the door open further to see what had happened.
His movements were frantic and unsure. He dropped down and helped Michelle to her feet. "What happened? Are you okay?" I could hear the rush of panic in my adopted father’s voice.
"Yeah, dad. I'm good."
"Anything hurt?" He searched her eyes for trauma, as if he would be able to detect any.
"No, I guess I was able to stop myself just in time. Not hurt. See? No marks. I'm good." She lifted her hands and did a twirl on the step to appease him.
"Okay, but don't scare me like that. I've told you girls never to lean against this door. You never know when someone's going to open it." He rubbed his palms against the khaki slacks he always wore, then moved them through his tousled blonde hair to remove it from his face.
"I know, dad. Sorry." Michelle gave Michael her best little girl pout face.
Michael shuffled around a few boxes. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he removed his glasses and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket to clean them. “I’m going back inside. Stay away from that door.” He wandered up the stairs, looking as if he’d lost something. He glanced around as he went. "Oh, and Elyse?" He turned so only I could see him. "Friday, could you park your car in the driveway? We might set up tables in here. Your mother thinks it might rain.” He quickly pointed in Michelle's direction and silently mouthed the word "Car."
"Oh, sure dad. No problem. I could even leave it at Chad's for the party, so nobody has to walk around it," I offered.
"Good thinking. You wouldn't want to mess up that paint job." He winked and went inside.
I went over to Cooper, grabbed my jacket off the front seat, and locked the car. Michelle followed me out to the front of the house as the garage door started to lower.
"Pretty pathetic." Her soft words were meant for only me.
"What's that?" I stopped, not really hoping she would elaborate, but knew she would.
"They got you a car for your birthday. How do they think I don't know they're getting me one as well? They must think me pathetic or dimwitted." She pulled her mane of blonde hair back as if she were going to
pull it up, but let it drop behind her. Then she scooped it up again, as if she changed her mind.
For the first time in weeks, I took in my sister’s appearance. Her tall, thin frame wasn't what I'd call attractive. As a matter of fact, she looked as if she had lost a bit of weight since last I noticed her.
With my current power issues, I had been avoiding everyone for months. It hadn't been an easy task, but I found it was necessary. Michelle stood behind me, her blue jeans sagged down her hips and her too-baggy T-shirt hung loosely on her shoulders. Her long honey-blonde hair was haphazardly piled into a hair tie on the top of her head. If I wasn't mistaken, she wasn't wearing a bit of make-up.
"Are you feeling okay? You seem...well, not yourself." I took a chance to come right out and ask.
"You're finally noticing." She turned to walk to the neatly manicured lawn. "What do you care, anyway? You can't stand me, remember?" She sank down onto the lawn and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She focused her attention on it, giving me the perfect opportunity to dismiss her and close myself back up in my room.
Instead, I tucked my hands in my pockets and walked over to where she sat. I looked over her shoulder to see she was staring intently at the blank screen. When did my bratty little sister lose her fire? She seemed more like a shell of her former self. The insults I could handle. I had become accustomed to that Michelle over the years. This Michelle was a stranger to me. She sat slumped over, not caring about posture or the appearance of sitting alone on her front lawn. She didn’t even glance up to make sure nobody was walking by.
"I always thought the feeling was mutual."
She snapped her head up to look at me, and I thought for a moment I had seen a flash of sadness in her eyes, which made me regret the comment. "I never said I couldn't stand you. You're my big sister. I'm supposed to be a brat to you, but you're supposed to give it back to me." She looked back down to the phone, then dismissed it, dropping it on the grass.
"I always thought I’d done an excellent job with that." I sensed her mood lift a little and saw the faintest of smiles reach the corner of her mouth.
Power Surge (The Crawford Witch Chronicles Book 2) Page 3